


Fist Fight

by Merkwerkee



Series: Being Bruno Hamilton [24]
Category: Masters of the Metaverse
Genre: Whumptober 2019, during his time in the Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkwerkee/pseuds/Merkwerkee
Summary: Apparently Bruno can't get a drink in peace
Series: Being Bruno Hamilton [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643020





	Fist Fight

“Look what the tide washed in. Ain’t this a little dry for you, _squid_?”

Bruno sighed internally. He’d come to the bar for a night off and a few quiet drinks after the last mission, but it looked like that idea was rapidly going down the drain. A five foot four kid in Army fatigues had come in with an obvious chip on his shoulder not half an hour ago and had tried to pick a fight with every guy in the room, Bruno included. Why he was looking to get his ass beat, Bruno couldn’t be sure, but neither Bruno nor the four other marines in the room had risen to his bait and he’d flung himself onto a bar stool and ordered several shots of whiskey.

The newly-arrived shoal of swabbies, however, didn’t look so sanguine about the guy’s mouth. Most of them appeared to be on the younger side, probably on their first cruise and out for good time on a night’s leave, and as a group appeared to be taken aback that they’d get challenged by one single dude before they’d even managed to get rowdy. Still, they weren’t about to ignore a comment like that.

“Excuse me, dog face? Are you barking at us? Because all I hear is yapping from some chihuahua who don’t know any better.” None of the swabbies were more than a Seaman in rank, but the one who’d spoken stood out by virtue of being the tallest man in the room except Bruno, if Bruno decided to stand up. It was, of course, exactly the wrong response to make as the army kid stood up with a dangerous light in his eyes; Bruno quietly finished his drink.

“I said, _squids_ , that you’re drier than your momma’s snatch last night. Sitting pretty on a nice boat while some of us do the _real_ heavy lifting in this war.” For all the guy wasn’t making much sense - three shots of whiskey in less than an hour was probably not aiding his coherence, but Bruno had his doubts as to how clever this guy was on a good day - the swabbies weren’t about to let that by them. “Excuse me?” said the spokesman, his buddies fanning out to flank him as tension snapped in the air like lightning looking for a target.

Bruno sighed and stood up.

“Kid, you got one chance to leave on your own two feet.” His statement damped the rising tension like a grounding wire. Most of the swabbies hadn’t seen him sitting there and none of them had apparently realized exactly how big Bruno was. The spokesman suddenly looked a lot less sure of himself, and fell back a half-step.

Army kid didn’t even flinch, meeting Bruno’s eyes directly in a challenge that would have been laughable in a guy twice this kid’s size. “Gonna make me, jarhead? Muscle Always Required, Intelligence Not Essential. My buddies taught me how to deal with your kind.” Bruno very much doubted that the kid had ever met his kind before; if he had, he would’ve taken the option to walk out. He sighed.

And punched the kid clean off his feet.

The blow was nothing fancy, no telegraphing, no dramatization, no nonsense. His fist, the kid’s face, and the guy was out like a light. The swabbies seemed taken aback, the bartender was giving Bruno a long-suffering look, and the four marines were giving him approving nods. Bruno returned the last silently, then bent to pick the kid up and slung him over his shoulder.

“Did he pay for his drinks?” Bruno asked the bartender, and the guy shook his head. Bruno counted out a few bills, then set them on the bar before turning for the door. “Hey man…thanks?” said one of the swabbies uncertainly and Bruno shrugged. “It was time for me to leave anyway. I’ll dump the kid off where he needs to be, you guys enjoy leave.”

The crowd of swabbies parted before him - he would swear there were more than before - like a school of fish before a shark and Bruno silently made his way out onto the street to start the long slog back to base.


End file.
